


This is My "I Love You"

by druscilla



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, M/M, Name-Calling, Rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/druscilla/pseuds/druscilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete and Patrick are alone and the routine unfolds as it normally does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is My "I Love You"

Pete moaned as the fingers hooked under his collar and pulled, stopping him short in front of hotel room couch. The fingers slipped from under the collar to stroke his hair for a moment. Then they were gone. Pete could see the legs and the boots in front of him, but nothing else as he kept his head lowered like a good boy.

Patrick sat, back straight with both feet on the floor. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at the boy in front of him: naked minus the leather black collar, head bowed and back covered in scratch marks from the shower earlier, hips swaying every so slightly as he tried to contain himself. Such a good boy.

“All right,” Patrick said finally, voice low in the back of his throat.

Pete’s face was immediately an inch from the floor, tongue darting out to lick a stripe across the toe of Patrick’s boot. He moaned, loud in the empty room, cock twitching as he moved to lick the same stripe across Patrick’s other boot. The semi-rough leather dragged across his tongue, barely tasting of dust. He licked higher, moaning louder. He didn’t look up but he knew Patrick’s hands were behind his head as he leaned back, smiling to himself, enjoying the view. Pete wiggled his ass slightly in the air.

“Slut,” Patrick murmured affectionately. Pete pressed his face against the singer’s thigh and a hand came down to stroke his hair again, this time tangling in it to pull the boy up to him. Pete was in Patrick’s lap being kissed hard and then a smile was breaking the kiss. “You know what to do,” he whispered, their lips still touching.

Pete’s hands scrambled to loosen Patrick’s belt as the kisses continued, hard, almost bruising. The singer had worn a tee shirt and not something with five hundred buttons, thank God. He whimpered as he felt teeth nip at his bottom lip. Then Pete was on the floor on his knees again, licking Patrick’s boots one more time before he unlaced them and pulled them off. He knelt up as Patrick stood, immediately leaning forward to wrap his lips around the singer’s cock as he pushed his slacks down.

Pete wrapped his hands behind his own back, trying not to smile when he felt the two hands tangle in his hair so Patrick could anchor him, pressing in hard and fast as Pete kept his lips wrapped around his teeth. He choked on his moans as Patrick hit the back of his throat over and over.

Finally, Patrick pushed Pete back with a frustrated noise. “Bed,” he whispered thickly. The boy scrambled to obey. He crawled across the mattress and flipped to his back, spreading his own legs and pushing two fingers in as Patrick crossed the carpet toward him. He bit his bottom lip and pressed a third in as their eyes locked.

Patrick smirked. “Such a good slut.” He slid between the waiting legs and pressed his own, lubricated fingers in after Pete’s had slipped out. “Naughty boy,” Patrick chided, his fingers pressing in deep and rubbing once against that spot that made Pete arch his hips. “Down.”

And then Patrick was pressing in, slowly teasing the boy open with just the tip. Pete was biting his own arm, trying not to scream, to squirm. He was failing at both and Patrick’s hands squeezed his hips, hard, forcing him still. He confused to push, the drag of each slow agonizing each leading to a seemingly never ending moan coming from Pete’s mouth. His hands were scrambling to find Patrick’s shoulders as he felt the familiar blurring of the senses. He didn’t trust himself at all.

The first sharp thrust brought him back to earth and the high pitched noise was just as quick. He turned his eyes back to Patrick who was staring at him with complete focus in his intense gaze. Then the blue irises were bright for a moment and he smiled, leaning in to give Pete a soft kiss before pulling back and continuing to slam into him with quick, precise thrusts.

Pete’s hips arched and Patrick squeezed them again. “Naughty boy …” His voice faded off softly, almost a warning. He pressed his cheek against Pete’s, but only so he could suck the boy’s earlobe into his mouth and bite down. He held on through the shriek, smirking, slamming in hard again.

“Trick, Trick, I’m gonna … Fuck, baby?” Pete’s voice went high on the end, desperate, sounding almost like he was going to cry. Patrick’s arms wrapped tight around him, holding him close, fucking him through it as Pete came with a strangled noise. There were stars and moans and heavy breathing and then Pete was collapsing against the mattress while Patrick pushed in one more time, shaking with his face against Pete’s neck as his own orgasm crashed through him like a tidal wave.

They stayed there for a moment, lost in the tangle of sweat and bodies before Patrick slowly pulled out and they fell asleep on top of the sheets, their shower from earlier completely negated.

Still there would be morning.


End file.
